


Pure Joy

by kueble



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29657046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kueble/pseuds/kueble
Summary: Date night fluff.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	Pure Joy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tumblr prompt: Red wine stained lips for Geraskier? 
> 
> Mentions Covid-19 quarantine.

Geralt knows he should be cleaning up their dinner plates, but he can’t help watching his boyfriend as he moves around the apartment. Quarantine has been rough, but their date night tradition that sprung up from it is something he hopes continues once they can rejoin the world. They’d started the night a little bit more dressy - because the first rule of date night is that _real_ pants are mandatory - but Jaskier’s slowly been coming undone little by little. The sleeves of his deep blue dress shirt are rolled up to his elbows and the first three buttons are open, revealing a patch of ridiculously distracting chest hair.

He ignores the urge to stand up and drag Jaskier back to the couch, content to just watch him dance around their living room while he sings to himself. His skinny jeans are so tight it’s a crime, and the way he moves his hips is sinful. He holds up his cobalt blue stemless wine glass and mimes a quick cheers before taking another deep sip from it. The wine glasses were a concession, because Geralt prefers stems, but apparently that would have ruined the aesthetic.

Turns out being madly in love with someone is a good reason to put up with a lot of shit.

“Oh! I love this one!” Jaskier cries out, raising his glass above his head as he moves to the music. He’s been yelling that for _every single song_ , which would be amazing if he hadn’t put on his playlist entitled “Pure Joy” earlier. “This is the music that makes me better. This is the feeling that turns me on. Oh everybody's got that window down summer time turn it up sing-along.”

Geralt rolls his eyes fondly and forces himself to get off the couch and gather up their plates. After they’re set in the sink - tomorrow’s problem - he snags the bottle of shiraz off the counter and wanders back towards his boyfriend. Jaskier grins widely and gulps the last of his glass, holding it out for Geralt to refill. He pulls Jaskier in for a quick kiss before going to grab his own glass.

And as he watches Jaskier bounce around the room to Ingrid Michaelson, he thinks that maybe they shouldn’t work together so well, but they really really do. The song changes and Jaskier squeals before rocking on his heels. He actually sets his glass down and scurries over to coerce Geralt onto his feet.

“This one works because you’re a bouncer!’ Jaskier tells him, laughing as he pulls him into a loose hug. Then he’s moving again, gripping Geralt’s hands as he spins them in a slow circle. “Obviously I’m Paul Simon and you’re Chevy Chase,” he adds, and Geralt just shakes his head, his heart so full it’s fit to burst. Jaskier sings as they move across the living room, uncoordinated but somehow avoiding the furniture.

“I’d be your bodyguard any day,” he tells him, stealing a kiss between verses. It earns him another grin, Jaskier’s eyes lighting up as he shimmies his hips to the beat.

“If you'll be my bodyguard, I can be your long lost pal. I can call you Betty, and Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al,” Jaskier belts out, and Geralt sends out a quiet prayer that their neighbors think they’re cute and not annoying.

Geralt knows he has two left feet, but Jaskier doesn’t care, just rolls their hips together as he sings the cheesy lyrics like his life depends on it. He’s so relaxed, so entirely in his element, that Geralt can’t help wishing things were different and that they were at one of his gigs instead of locked in their own apartment on a Saturday night. Jaskier belongs on a stage where his voice and personality can shine like they’re meant to.

He doesn’t seem to mind his audience of one, though, and is giggling as he tugs Geralt onto the couch as the song ends. Grabbing his glass, he takes a long sip before sliding into Geralt’s lap, straddling his thighs. Geralt runs his hands up and down Jaskier’s chest before letting them rest on his hips. He brushes his thumbs under the hem of his shirt just to see the little shiver it causes.

He’s so fucking lucky he could cry.

“Her husband's acting different and it smells like infidelity. She says, ‘That ain't my merlot on his mouth. That ain't my jewelry on our joint account’,” Jaskier sings, his voice low. He frowns for a moment and opens his mouth as if to speak but closes it and tilts his head at Geralt.

“What’s wrong?”

“Not to question T. Swifty, but do you think you can actually taste wine on someone’s lips? Like if I have a glass at dinner and come home, could you taste it on me?” Jaskier asks, pouting in such an adorable way that he can’t help darting forward and kissing him again.

“Hmm,” Geralt says, mulling it over. He makes a show of licking his lips and shrugs. “We won’t figure it out tonight.”

“We totally will! Kiss me again,” Jaskier orders before sloppily pressing their mouths together. He licks at the seam of Geralt’s lips, and Geralt opens his mouth, letting him deepen the kiss. His grip on Jaskier’s waist tightens, his fingers pushing his shirt up and seeking more skin.

“You’re drunk, babe,” Geralt tells him, chuckling when they pull apart. “Your lips are red and your teeth are tinted purple. _Of course_ I can taste the shiraz on you.”

“Oh, good point. Plus you’re drinking it, too,” Jaskier says with another frown. Geralt brings his thumb up and runs it across Jaskier’s wine-stained lips, shivering when Jaskier nips at him gently. “I’ve got it! Call someone over. You can kiss them and then they can kiss me and we can see if I can taste the wine.”

“Oh? Who am I going to call at this hour?”

“I don’t know. Lambert?” Jaskier asks, waving a hand in the air.

“I’m not kissing my brother for you,” Geralt argues, laughing when Jaskier just takes a deep gulp of his wine and thinks harder.

“Yen!” he chirps, “Yen will come over. She loves science. Just give me your phone and I’ll text her.”

“Yeah, not having my ex come over to kiss us both,” Geralt says with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, you’re no fun at all,” Jaskier pouts at him.

“Well I _was_ going to suggest we finish our wine, forget the science experiment, and take this party to the bedroom, but I suppose that’s no fun either, huh?” Geralt asks. The way Jaskier throws back his wine and jumps up is almost comical.

“Ignore me,” he says as he reaches a hand out for Geralt’s. “You have the best ideas.”

“I’ll accept your apology...if it’s given on your knees. You really gotta sell it,” Geralt suggests, and Jaskier quickens his pace, rushing towards their bedroom. 

The rest of the night is a wine-flavored blur, but they both end up completely satisfied with Jaskier’s apology.

**Author's Note:**

> Come play with me on [Tumblr](https://kueble.tumblr.com).


End file.
